Misery Loves Company
by RandomJaz
Summary: There was an unspoken understanding between us, one that carried over to many things. Some things we just didn't talk about. " I killed him for you" he reminded me solemnly. " He can't hurt you now"
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Just as a heads up, this story has some dark themes. I'm sure most of you know of the scene with King Jellybean and Morty in the bathroom. I'd love feedback, very much so. Thank you for reading guy! Your time is always appreciated :) *This is an intro chapter.*

Hands rubbed my shoulders faux comfortingly and something was wrong, I just knew it. My instinct told me to run and that's what I tried to do. I couldn't get away though. Blue grubby fingers grabbed me and I was forced over a sink. The feeling of the porcelain was cold and wet on my skin and I could already see myself being dragged away in to the stall as I squirmed under his hold.

 _"Stop fighting me, Just let this happen"_

Rain poured outside. What sounded like buckets of water being poured off the roof onto my window sill woke me up, the distant rumble of thunder still too close for my liking. My heart pounded as I stared up at the ceiling. Images burned deep in to my psych still animated behind my eyelids as my heart raced so hard my lungs struggled to utilize the oxygen I breathed.

The hairs on my neck and arms stood up, my skin crawling. A flash of lightning lit up my window and I was too dazed to react. I focused on my breathing, forcing my diaphragm to expand so I could take in enough air. My airways burned slightly and my chest felt constricted. Sweat was drying on my forehead and I was parched.

Pushing myself to sit up I walked out from my room and left for the kitchen almost robotically. The house was quiet and I descended the stairs. Too distracted, I forgot to skip the creaky step, and I winced at the unexpected sound but continued downstairs. Inside the kitchen I walked past the counter to the sink and skipped getting a glass, just running the water and drinking from the faucet.

Most of it made it in my mouth, the cold water filling cheeks. I drank until the horrible, dry film inside my mouth was gone. My nightmare induced cotton mouth was disgusting making me feel like I could spit dust if I tried hard enough. Moving my face away from the water I wiped my mouth .

Shutting off the tap I didn't move, I just stayed bent over the sink. It took me a few minutes but I eventually stood back up as a paranoid feeling settled in. I could almost feel hands on me, their palms rubbing my skin. Lightning lit up the kitchen through the blinds and I jumped slightly, rubbing my hair nervously. The kitchen returned to darkness and I stood there, listening to the soft hums and whirs of the appliances.

My mind drifted in and out, thoughts spacey and blank. I felt tired but I didn't want to go back to sleep, not to my bed where I'd lay alone in the dark... thinking. The digital clock on the stove said it was almost two in the morning . There wasn't much to do and I opened the refrigerator absentmindedly. The bottles and condiments joustled on the door and I swung it open, looking inside for something of interest. It all looked either gross or boring. Again.

Shutting the fridge I opened the freezer instead, grabbing my usual.

"Ice cream again, eh Morty?"

Rick's voice didn't scare me at all and I shut the freezer door with a cup of icecream in my hand. I probably zoned out again and didn't hear him come down the stairs. Peeling off the lid I walked to the bin and dropped it in the garbage. I got a spoon from the drawer and shut it carefully. The utensils inside tinked softly amongst one another. Rick didn't move.

"Bad dream"

"I know" He assured me.

He was standing in the kitchen entrance, probably watching me in the dark. Lightning flashed across the kitchen again and I briefly saw him, the sound of thunder booming following right after. It carried through the house, and tensely took a spoonful of ice cream In my mouth.

" You going back to your room?" At this point he only asked for the sake of casualty.

I held the spoonful of icecream in my mouth, sliding it off with my front teeth. I held the cold bite under the roof of my mouth, letting the heat there melt it before swallowing and shaking my head. Not that I was sure he could even see me do it. Didn't matter, he didn't need to.

"Nope"

"Come on then"

Climbing up the staircase Rick followed me. My damn foot made the worn step creak and I paused mid step, Rick putting his hand on my back gently to coax me forward. Noone else was home but us, my parents and sister having left to a cabin get away days prior just to be caught in a storm. Noone's snoring could be heard and the hallway was quiet, far too quiet. Only heavy rainfall offering a distraction to the deafening silence. It was depressing and left my mind to wander, I hated it.

The tick of the clock in Rick's room sounded nice to my ears. It was soft and steady, welcomingly repetitive. It reminded me to breath. I sat on his bed eating ice cream, focusing on nothing in particular as Rick opened his nightstand and looked for something. It was his flask, I heard the metal tink of it being unscrewed.

The contents sloshed as he tipped it back. He swallowed once and screwed the lid on, setting down on the nightstand. I didn't need to smell anything to know what he was drinking, but as he sat next to me his characteristic whiskey breath wafted by my nostrils. Very potent, and very strong. I was so used to it.

The rain was still pouring. A clap of thunder bellowed and I tightened my grasp on the spoon. Rick sighed, just as tired as I was. He always woke when I used the stairs. At first the stupid creaky step was always the culprit, now it was just me. A year of this and I still couldn't remember to avoid it each time I left my room in the middle of the night.

"Morty, you've got to start getting some sleep"

I didn't comment, just took another bite. Rick didn't need to hear the steps anymore to know I was up. He couldn't sleep past midnight anymore, I'd woken him up too many times. It was a stretch to say he suffered with me. Being up at this hour constantly wasn't ideal but he didn't care much. He stayed up usually, just drinking. Still, he worried. In his own way he worried. About me.

"I can't sleep anymore"

"He's dead, Morty" He told him, simple as that. "He can't hurt you"

"I know that"

My fingers shook as I kept eating, my front teeth clicking the metal spoon. Rick and I didn't talk about the king much. Not that Rick wouldn't listen if I did. I just didn't want to. It always upset me when he brought him up. He seldom ever did for that reason. There was an unspoken understanding between us, one that carried over to many things. Some things we just didn't talk about.

" I killed him for you" he reminded me solemnly. " He can't hurt you now"

I could feel all the ridges of my teeth as I skimmed my tongue behind them, rubbing the bottom row. I pushed against them, breathing in heavily. My throat tightened painfully and let out a ragged breath. I didn't want to talk about it, so I didn't. Rick waited for me to say something, but I didn't. He reached for his flask again and unscrewed it, taking another swig. He didn't close it that time, he held it in his hand as he mulled over his thoughts.

" No one could ever hurt you anymore than I have." He stated ruefully, his remorse saturating the lowly spoken words. "I can guarantee that"

"Rick, just stop" I whispered, feeling hot burning pain where the numbness in my chest normally was. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Course not"

I didn't even want the icecream anymore but kept eating it, it was something to do. I didn't want to talk but I couldn't bring myself to leave. Rick's room was comfortable, his bed was comfortable. It was comfortable because he was there. I didn't want him to ruin it. Neither did he, but he worried. In his own way, he worried.

About me.

We sat listening to the rain and I stopped eating the icecream, mixing the remaining contents until it all became a melted syrupy mess. The spoon tapped the styrofoam cup as I swirled it around and Rick reached over to take it away from me. He took away the cup and the spoon and moved it to the nightstand, careful not to spill his flask.

He put an arm around my shoulders, no worry to my personal space. Rick didn't ever need permission to touch me, he just could. His fingers hung over the left side of my chest drumming over my nightshirt and he took another swig. I leaned in to him, taking in his natural musk. I liked his scent and turned my face to rest on his collar bone, trying to bury myself there.

The arm on my shoulders curled around me and I pressed in to him more, trying to meld myself in to his chest. The phantom fingers crawling over me were still there, I could feel them, but Rick's warmth against me overpowered it. Rick brought the flask back down to his knee, whiskey permeating the air again. I could smell it but I didn't care.

"You're almost sixteen Morty, you can't let hard times ruin you"

A sob left my mouth without permission nor warning and I tried my best to suck in a breath to cut it off. All I managed to accomplish was intensify it. It was strained and hurt my throat, the tight feeling choking me up. I held my breath to force myself silent, my chest quivering.

Rick patted my head briefly, sighing under his breath. He was exhausted, as was I. I curled my fingers in to his nightshirt with shaking hands, gathering all my will not to cry. It was pointless, it hurt and made me feel stupid. More importantly, it made everything real.

"He didn't even hurt me" I grit out through my teeth, fighting back tears. "All this and he didn't even hurt me. I escaped. "

Rick wasn't one for comforting words.

"That shit will take a toll on the mind, Morty. You don't walk away put together."

"Goddamn it, I can't remember the last time I've actually slept, Rick!"

My voice rose and I shook in regret, horrified at my outburst. I nearly screamed I was so loud, either that or the house was just that quiet. I broke down crying, my face still in his shirt. I think I screamed because my throat burned. Rick's arm tightened around me. I cried in to him, having lost the control to repress it.

"I need to stop" I said it, angry with myself.

"You're just tired, Morty. We're both tired"

I kept crying, wrapping my arms around him trying to grab hold of some reassurance he held but couldn't properly convey.

"I can't sleep" I sobbed, temples beginning to hurt from the intense sudden strain of crying. "I can't sleep, I just want to sleep again."

Rick took a particularly heavy swig of whisky and he swallowed it with a gulp, hissing a bit as it burned his throat. I tried taking the flask from him, desperate for something. Just anything. He held it out of my reach immediately, shaking his head.

"Don't be like me, Morty" he scolded "You're better than that"

Arm still around me, he used that hand to close the flask. He put it back in his bedside drawer, pulling away from me for a moment. I didn't lean in after him, instead crying in to my palms. I bent at the waist in to them, thunder clapping again.

Rick put his other arm around me and pulled me down to lay on the mattress. I curled in to myself as he lay rested behind my back. My crying was the most horrible sound I'd ever heard in my life. I sobbed, wishing the rain would somehow drown it out. I didn't want to hear it, I doubted Rick did.

"How the fuck your parents are this blind is beyond me"


End file.
